Hell Hath No Fury
by Fizgigs
Summary: Dean is dragged to Hell by one of Lilith's hell hounds. Sam, distraught, prays every day that he can somehow get his brother back, but hope arrives; Castiel is beginning to lose interest in his orders, and after watching over Dean, begins to fall in love with him. He reveals his identity and existence to Sam, and together they rescue Dean from the tortures of Hell.
1. Chapter 1

Setting: Dean is dragged to Hell by one of Lilith's hell hounds. Sam, distraught, prays every day that he can somehow get his brother back somehow, but despite his efforts, no demon will take a deal for him to trade places with his brother. He exhausts every option beyond belief, spiraling into self-destructive habits, until one day hope arrives: an Angel of the Lord. Castiel is beginning to lose interest in his orders, and after watching over Dean, begins to fall in love with him. He reveals his identity and existence to Sam, and together they break into Hell in order to retrieve Dean.

(I'm new to this so please tell me honestly what you think, if anyone likes it i'll follow the storyline and add in a 'Then' timeline of when Sam first meets Cas as well)

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Now

The stench of death unfolded itself from the open door, slowly reaching out to them. The smell was horrific; Castiel hunched over in the corner gagging, and Sam was trying his best not to empty his stomach of the cheap motel food they had managed buy with money hustled from pool. Even as an angel, the reek was unbearable. Castiel stepped forward, ready with his angel blade, and led them into the darkness. A figure loomed before them and Castiel sprang into action heading for the threat, but Sam ripped his arm back and pushed Castiel behind him.

"Cas, stop, stop! It's him."

Now in the room, the smell of rotting flesh was unbearable. Castiel was holding his breath, yet he still somehow managed a choke when he saw Dean in front of him, after months and months cut off from him he was finally here, next to the one he loved. Dean was hanging by his wrists, feet swaying above the floor from the breeze they had bought with them through the open door.

"Look what they've done to you Dean," Castiel's voice broke, "look what they've done".

The walls and floor around her were painted in reds and browns from years of blood and torture. Chunks of Dean's flesh were missing or peeling away, the bones in his wrists were visible around the manacles. Maggots swarmed in and out of the decaying flesh in one leg, and there was no part of him which was clean of slashes or lacerations and several brands were burned into the remaining skin. Barbed iron rods had been completely pushed through Dean's body and were peering out of his back, as if to dare anyone to attempt to remove them without carving his insides further. Sam, hunter's instinct kicking in, was the first to notice the walls around them; in each spot hung blades, hooks, hammers, and the worst torture devices imaginable.

When Castiel stood still frozen from the horror of the friend they were facing, Sam cleared his head, swallowed his emotions, and tried to pretend he didn't know his brother, that this was just another rescue mission and nothing more. He hated to, but he knew from memories that Dean was his weakness; if he wanted his brother safe, he had to act like any hunter would saving a victim on a hunt.

"We need to go," Sam said, quickly formulating plans. "We need to get out now, before the demons realise our distraction. Guard the door Cas, make sure the demons haven't been alerted."

Castiel didn't hear the orders from his recently found adoptive brother. He was focused on Deans' beaten face, stroking his shoulder as lightly as he could with his hand in fear of damaging him more.

"Cas." Sam's voice echoed somewhere in the back of his mind. The palm of a hand made contact with the side of Castiels's head and he slumped over in shock, one hand grasping at his angel blade to fend off the attacker, the other reaching to the stinging handprint on his face.

"Cas! I know it's hard to see him like this, god knows I understand how you feel, but I need you here! Focused! If you want to get Dean out of here, if you want to see him smiling again then you need to listen to me and do as I say."

Castiel closed his eyes, wanting to sit at Dean's feet and waste away with him, but anger began to well up inside him. He jabbed at his eyes with his bruised hand, annoyed and ashamed with himself for breaking down instead of helping Sam, instead of doing his duty and following orders. Instinct found its way to the surface, and he pushed himself up from the blood soaked dirt and headed for the hallway he was told to guard. It was the first time in a long while he had taken orders from anyone except Anna, one of the angels which governed over him, but he knew Sam was the best hunter in the States, well, second best after Dean. _I was wrong_, he thought. _I told myself I could protect him, yet here the Sam is, helping to clean up the mess I've made._ He turned to see Sam take his brother in his arms gently, as if he were paper that could tear with even the smallest of movements. _This is my fault, all of it. If I'd stopped myself, if I hadn't fallen for him then maybe my brother would have allowed me to stop the hellhounds from dragging him down here in the first place instead of teaching me a lesson. _The angels needed Dean. He knew that, his siblings knew that, but it didn't prevent Michael from punishing Cas for beginning to feel for him. And letting him see Dean suffer was a lesson to remember.

Sam pulled his brothers wrists free from the manacles, and inspected the damage.

"How long has he been here? There's no way this is from four months of torture, it looks like he's been here for-"

"Years," Castiel said. "He's been gone from you for four months. Down here, time is…different. A month feels closer to something like ten years. Alistair has had him, has been torturing him, carving him, for four decades."


	2. Chapter 2

Then

A lamp soared almost gracefully across the room and shattered against the patterned wall where Sam had been staying in for the past few days. He had run out of alcohol the previous night, although he'd still had enough to maintain his drunkenness through to the following night.

He grunted at the slash across his hand where he had broken the glass with his grip. He shouldn't lose his temper, he knew that, but being hauled up in a damp 70s disco motel with mould on the walls for over a week with only the flickering artificial light to keep him company was beginning to get to him. His desperate research had discovered nothing, and after Lilith's mutts dragged Dean to Hell he was alone, and beginning to get more and more self destructive. He had already trapped and tortured several demons, yet no one would provide any information. _Dean had always been the better torturer; he almost seemed to enjoy it he was so good._ The most frustrating was a cross roads demon he'd summoned, but despite his offer to trade places with Dean all he had gained was a grimace and laughter when he had bought Ruby's knife down through the demons hand.

Nobody could help, and those that might have were avoiding his calls; even hunters knew the dangerous obsession the Winchesters had for saving each other. After the last hunter who had helped Sam failed to mention the demon contacts he knew had possibly influenced the death of Dean, people turned their back rather than risk several bullets in the back like the last of Sam's helpers, despite the fact they were innocent of demon control unlike poor Mickey Michaels. It was clear that Sam's behaviours were slowly becoming more self-destructive; drinking, fighting with strangers in bars and gambling away the small amount of money he had left. The Winchesters were the bedtime monster stories for supernatural beings, and the same stories of murder and ruthlessness towards those not accepted in the Winchester family was beginning to become more and more common amongst the other hunters too.

"You should be more careful throwing things Samuel Winchester."

A gunshot rang out through the room, a sawn off shot gun facing the figure who had somehow appeared in the bathroom doorway. Years of training from his brother were awakened despite his drunkenness, and Sam swung round and grabbed a knife off the desk, charging across the room to bury it deep in the being's chest for good measure. _Ruby's knife and salt shotgun shells, I don't care who you are demon, but you're not leaving this room._ The unsettling grin across Sam's face faded as the figure stood, seemly unscathed and unemotionally pulled the dagger from his chest.

Sam braced, shocked that his attacks were hardly noticed and expecting a punch, but nothing came but the sound of his knife clattering to the floor. _Lilith._ What else could appear, immune to his attacks? It wasn't any other creature; there were no cold spots, no signs.

"Come to finish me this time?" Sam's voice raised to a shout, "didn't manage last time did you, you don't think you took enough from me?"

"I do not know who you think I am, Winchester." A hint of a smile traced the edges of the figure's lips.

"Let me tell you something bitch. I am going to_ rip_. _Your. Heart. Out._" His lip curled into a sneer as he fumbled for another weapon, unable to see through the grogginess of the whiskey he'd found in the cupboard.

"My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord." His words were slow, controlled. His stature was tall, although compared to Sam, he seemed like the height of a child; it did not surprise Sam that he towered over this Castiel, he was tall even compared to his 6'1" brother. He noted every detail of Castiel, the way he stood tall with his strong shoulders, chin raised like a soldier, like Dean. He was wearing a long trenchcoat and a rumpled suit underneath, yet nothing he could see was willing to reveal any secrets about the intruder. "And I am here to help you, Samuel Winchester".


	3. Chapter 3

(Please let me know what you think guys, compliments or criticism, I'd like any feedback to keep me on track! Thanks guys)

Now

Sam stood with his brother in his arms, his relief disappearing as Castiel's words registered in his mind.

"What?" The question needed no explanation.

"I'm sorry. This is the saying used when conveying sympathy, yes?"

Sam grimaced. "Yeah Cas, yeah it is. We need to move."

Castiel moved into the hallway ahead of his adoptive brother and Dean, him and Sam scanning and moving fast, ready for action should any be needed. Their alertness was needed; they had barely reached 100 foot from the room they found Dean when shadows begun to creep up to them, gaining speed, more and more rapidly.

"Demons" Sam hissed in warning to Cas. He swung round as the first fist made contact with his face, shielding his brother from any more pain at the hands of a demon. He expected Castiel to step back and interfere in the same way he had every time he had been fighting next to Sam recently, but a brief look in Castiel's direction showed he had problems of his own. One by one demons were dropping next to Cas. _He might not have chosen a strong looking vessel, _Sam noted, _although he can use it to his advantage._ He had noticed a few months ago that no matter what they were facing Castiel was always underestimated. No sooner had the thought flashed through his head another hand struck his face, again, again, each hit drawing more blood.

Castiel lifted and threw a demon in his direction like she weighed nothing, colliding with the demon that was hitting Sam. With a break in the hits Sam swung his knife upwards, cutting though the abdomen of a demon, slashing the neck of another. It didn't matter that he was outnumbered, he was fighting for his two brothers and nothing was going to change that. Fury burned through him as a demon managed to pass him and edge towards Dean, but Cas turned on his heel and thrust his angel blade towards it, leaving only the hilt visible protruding from the demon's skull. It didn't matter that Castiel had no weapon, he ducked under an arm, twisting around a demon delivering jabs to vital organs with his fists before smiting several more. Despite the centuries of experience, Castiel was becoming overcome; he was slowly surrounded and kicked to a wall like a beaten puppy. A grumbling "Sam!" was the warning Sam needed as he saw demons passing Castiel and approaching him now from both ends of the hall. Towering over Dean's body he refused to give up, for his brothers' sake.

The last thing he saw as he fought for his life was the angel blade being plunged into Castiel's abdomen, before everything faded until his only sense was the scent of Dean's rotting flesh and his own stale blood.


End file.
